Last of My Line
by Xenolord
Summary: [All CT] Kyle Ross. A rather unassuming character is contacted by a young woman named Alyssa Hamilton and told something that will change his life. [AxA, Drama, Romance later on.]
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Capcom owns Clock Tower 3. All characters Except Kyle are copyright Capcom.

Author's Note: AU For The Win! This story will include aspects of EVERY Clock Tower Game. Each aspect will, in time, be seen. It's primarily CT3.

Last of My Line

Prologue

-Excerpt from "The Book of Entities 1"-

"Entities" have existed in the human realm since Roman days. These beings have been known to possess innocent humans, imbuing them with utter ruthlessness and cruelty and often driving the possessed to vicious acts of murder. In such cases, executing the murderer does not break the cycle of evil-the possessed is resurrected to continue it's bloodthirsty mission.

Those who are thus controlled by Entities are known as "Subordinates". When a Subordinate kills a human, they take nourishment from the victim's soul, and their power grows. Subordinates may acquire an infinite amount of power in this manner. It follows, then, that Subordinates are sustained by human misery and suffering.

Only certain humans are equipped to fight Entities and their Subordinates: the "Rooders". Rooders, who are always young woman in their teens, have been battling against these shadowy enemies for hundreds of years. Their war is likely to continue for centuries to come."

-Begin Chapter One-

I've always been different from the other students here. I've always been slightly... strange, even by the standards of my family. I come from a family of strange happenings, from murderers to ghosts... I've seen them all and never batted an eyelash.

"Hey! Simpson!" I hear someone call from my left. Ah, christ, I know that voice. I slowly stand from my sitting position and face the one who called my name.

"You called, Jack Mehoffer?" I replied sarcastically.

"_Mewiffer!_" He replied sharply. I simply grinned. Gets him every time.

"What do you want, Mewiffer?" I continued.

"You missed a payment on your protection fees. You want to get killed?" 'Protection Fees'... it's a wonder how many different ways you can dress extortion.

"Oh, sorry about that. Had something important to do. That Game Box won't buy itself, ya know." I smirked.

"Oh, I'm gonna beat that smirk right off your face, and send you runnin' back to that hell-hole of an orphanage! Maybe your whore mother could comfort you."

"Hey, hey, hey. Insult me, okay. Not my mother. That'll not get you anywhere." His eyes were beginning to bleed. Yup. It's just like always. Whenever someone means me or someone else harm, their eyes start bleeding. I'm the only one who can see it, of course. What did I say? Strange family.

"Oh, I'll do more then insult your mother! I'll hammer her home!" Fifteen and talking so big. I simply shrugged.

"Ya know, Mewiffer. I've wiped the dirt with your face the past five weeks. If I do it again today, that'll make six weeks. A perfect score. Want to try again?" He answered by charging. The numbskull never learns. I simply take a quick step out of the way and bring my hand down on the back of his head, sending him reeling to the ground. "See? Wipin' the floor." I continued, putting my foot on the back of his head and moving it back and forth. "Wipin' the floor. Wipin' the floor." I smiled as he struggled to get up. Finally the threw himself to his feet.

"You better pray we never find out where your live, Ross. Just pray!" I watched him flee into the school building.

My name is Kyle Simpson Ross. I've been an orphan for as long as I can remember. Apparently my 'mother' owed my mother a favor, and in return, took me in. My adoptive mother was in the papers some time ago. You may remember her. Her birth name is Jennifer Simpson. She put the horrors of the Barrows Hell behind her and made a living running the same orphanage she grew up in, since it's original owner died some time ago.

I'm the youngest student here. Oh, but don't let that fool you. I'm twenty five. The school I go to is for the 'Special Interest Students' among us. Some are faking it. Jack Mewiffer, that goon earlier, claims to be able to channel the energies of the damned into a laser beam he can destroy anything with. He's yet to use his 'power' on me yet.

There are some other 'Special Interests' here, but most of them are pretty off the wall. There's an entire sect of the students who claim to be the reincarnated Soul Edge. Too many video games, I think. There are others who claim to be the reincarnated Scissorman. They are even more persecuted. Me... Well, I'm me. And that's 'special interest' enough.

"Kyle! There's someone at the door for you!" I hear someone call from inside. I walk slowly inside. "Honestly, Kyle, put some pep to your step!" I begin jogging down the hall to the main foyer. Standing, looking around, is the frame of a woman about six three, very thin frame, nice set... if you know what I mean... and long blond hair. I can't say I know this person...

"Kyle Simpson?" She asks.

"Kyle Simpson ROSS." I emphasis. I like making Ross my last name, because of all the scissor-related pranks people like playing on me. They know I'm related to Jennifer, and they like teasing me about it. I walked into my room once to find my room mate wearing a Jason mask snipping a pair of nail clippers together. I wasn't amused.

"Sorry. My name is Rolla Harrington. I've come to take you back."

"FINALLY!" I shouted, sighing. "I take it my mother sent you." I continued. Rolla nodded. I smiled. "Good. I wanna get the HELL outta this place."

"Ready for your punishment, Ross?!" I heard Mewiffer's voice behind me. I turned around to see Jack brandishing a pair of garden sheers. "Terrified yet?"

"Ah, christ, don't you ever give up, Jack Mehoffer?" He walked towards me snipping the sheers. Raising them above his head, he brought them down. I sidestepped. He collapsed to the ground, the sheers sliding across the ground. Picking the sheers up, I smiled. "Pathetic. You fail at being a scissor man." I put the sheers in the umbrella urn. Turning to Rolla, I smiled. "I'm ready when you are."

The orphanage I was raised in is in Norway. It's called the Granite Orphanage, and it's near Romsdaaren. I can't say the Orphanage holds any special place in my heart, but it is home.

"Remember this place?" Rolla asked as we pulled up to the drive way. I was seated shotgun next to Rolla as she drove. Her sleeveless dress was one of the most... intreaguing things I have seen in some time. It offered a nice shot, when she turned hard left of her chest. And, might I add, she wasn't wearing anything ender that dress.

"Not really." I replied simply. She smiled.

"No, I didn't think you would. You were young at the time. You'll remember in due time." She stops the car. "Alright, you. Out you go." She smiled, stepping out. I complied and got out, shutting the door behind me. We walked up the path to the orphanage, the only thing breaking the silence was the sound of the gravel crunching under our feet.

We walked up to the door and Rolla opened it.

"Jennifer! I'm back!" She shouted as she entered.

"Hey! Hey! No running inside!" A voice called from deeper within. "Rolla. Glad you got back. Did you find Kyle."

"Yes, Jen. I found him." She pushed me through a door. Standing on the other side was a woman in a red and blue house dress polishing a pan. She had long black hair and beautiful blue eyes. If I didn't know better, I would almost swear that this woman was my real mother. I mean, my _real_ mother... my birth mother. She had the same hair color and eye color as I. She smiled.

"Good morning, Kyle. I trust Rolla didn't bore you with constant chatter." I looked over to the bra-less wonder who had driven me here. Speaking with a sly smile, I replied.

"No trouble at all." Turning back, I watched to woman place the pot on the table.

"Do you remember me, Kyle? You were so young when I adopted you..."

"Jennifer Simpson. One of the three soul survivors of the Barrows Mansion. I remember plenty about you. It's your last name that caused me eighteen years of hell couped up in that asylum for the somewhat insane. Yes I remember you." I replied coldly.

"Wow... you've definetly changed since you were enrolled in that school... what happened."

"'What happened?' 'WHAT HAPPENED'? I'll tell you what happened." I turned sharply away from her, grabbed a pair of scissors from the table. In my best Mewiffer impression, I began. "Hey! Simpson! I heard you don't like hair cuts! How 'bout I give you one! I promise not to slip! Much!" I then changed tones. "Hey, Simpson! Wanna play Rock Paper Scissors! I'll be sure to use real scissors!" I changed again. "Snippy, Snippy, Ross!" I changed tones again. "Here comes the Scissorman!" Throwing the scissors back onto the table, I scoffed. "THAT is why I'm this way. I've lived through eighteen years of HELL because of my last name! Your reputation, mother, more then proceeds you." I finished. Jennifer stared at me with a dumbstruck look.

"I... had no idea... people could be so cruel..." She muttered. Rolla had a look of astonishment plastered on her lips. I sighed.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have gone off like that. I'm... kinda edgy now." I slumped my shoulders.

"It's okay, Kyle. Come on, you hungry?"

"Little." I replied. Jennifer smiled and showed me in. I heard something break.

"Hey! Hey! Watch the crystal!" Jennifer shouted to her right. I followed my adoptive mother into the kitchen.

"So, you run the old place now."

"Yes I do." Jennifer replied. Opening the pantry door she continued. "Lotte, get out of the pantry."

"Damnit!" I heard a second voice call. Clambering from the pantry was a woman of about Jennifer's age with fire red hair and matching eyes, wearing a blood red kimono. She dusted herself off and smiled. "Hey, who's the newbie?" She asked, clearly referencing me. I waved.

"This is..."

"Kyle Simpson Ross. Resident freak." I cut her off. The new woman looked at me, then got real close and squinted.

"Nope. You're not a freak. Just really unique." She presented her hand. "Lotte Andromeda. I'm Jennifer's..."

"Girlfriend?" I finished. Lotte grinned nervously, rubbed the back of her head, and straightened herself up.

"Yea. I suppose that's... the right word..." She turned to Jennifer and whispered: "Blunt little guy, isn't he?"

"He's had a hard life." She replied, stepping back into the kitchen. I slowly followed her back. "Have a seat, Kyle. What do you prefer for breakfast?" She continued.

"Are pancakes out of the question?" I asked, looking about the kitchen. Sitting at the table, I began looking around.

"Hey, Miss Simpson? Who's the old guy?" I heard a young female voice call from behind me. I craned my neck around and looked at the source. It was a young girl probably around thirteen or so. She was looking at me with this stare.

"Now, now, now, Agatha. Be nice to Kyle. He's my son." Jennifer responded, putting a plate of pancakes before me, topped with eggs and bacon. She smiled. "Agatha, say hi to Kyle Ross." She looked at me, almost studying me, then spoke.

"I don't like him. He smells funny." She muttered. I heard Jennifer scoff.

"Agatha! Be nice to Kyle! He's going to be living here for a while." Jennifer scolded Agatha, sitting down at the table across from me. "Well? What are you waiting for? Dig in!" She smiled. I nodded and began eating. All night on a plane and all morning in a car had made me tired and hungry. I grabbed a fork and knife and didn't wait to be asked twice.

-Two Hours Later-

I was just settling into the accouterments when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" I heard Lotte shout. I was just coming down when I heard the conversation. Okay, I admit. I'm an eavesdropper. Always have been. The conversation went a little something like this: "Hello?" Lotte began.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. My name is Alyssa Hamilton, and I represent the Rooder Society. I was wondering if I might come in..."

"Why, yes! Of course! Jennifer! Guest!" Lotte shouted. I heard footsteps from down the stairs. Watching Jennifer walk down the stairs, I knew I had to listen. Following behind them into the dining room, I crouched behind the door.

"Yes, Ms. Hamilton. How can I help you this afternoon?"

"As I said earlier, I represent the Rooder Society, and we believe one of you orphans here may have the specifications we search for in potential candidates."

"Uhm... before we continue... I have a question..." Jennifer spoke.

"Yes?"

"What is a Rooder?" There came a chuckle from the new girl.

"Glad you asked. Rooders are specialized individuals who... dedicate their lives to fighting the evils and impurities in the world. The girls who are Rooders are both fiercely loyal, and fierce fighters."

"And how is it you can just 'detect' this ability to become Rooders?"

"Well... that's another matter entirely. Usually when a girl possesses the power of a Rooder, they are stalked by Subordinates until the time their powers develope, at which time, they are attacked. Nine times out of ten, the Subordinate gets away with the crime... but there is the off chance that we can respond with enough time to both destroy the Subordinate, and save the New Rooder. However, in this case, the power of the blood flows so... strongly within the subject, that we believe Subordinates are drawn to him."

"Wait..." Lotte muttered. "Him?" She continued. "I thought you said that all Rooders were girls."

"That's the kicker. This subject is male. Goes by the name Kyle Ross. We believe he has sufficient abilities to be trained as a Rooder. It's... shocking, even to us, but we cannot deny what is in the blood."

"Talking about someone in the third person when they can hear you is incredibly rude." I spoke, walking into sight. Jennifer smiled.

"Kyle. So good of you to join us. Have a seat. This is..."

"Alyssa Hamilton." I continued. "I heard." I took a seat next to her. Talk about a real cultural anomaly. By looks, she's Asian, probably Japanese in decent. But she has blond hair and has a very thick British accent. "Kyle Ross." I presented my hand. "So. Tell me about Rooders." I jumped right into the matter at hand.

"Certainly. As I've already said, we believe you may possess the abilities, when properly trained, to become a Rooder."

"And what is a Subordinate, again? Didn't catch it the first time you didn't explain it."

"Kyle! Do at least try to be nice!"

"It's quite alright, Mrs. Simpson. This is a lot to drop on the boy. A Subordinate is a term we use for humans who have been completely overtaken by evil."

"Kinda like Steve Jobs? I'm pretty sure he's the incarnation of evil." I smiled slyly.

"Erm... not... exactly. I'm talking about evil, as in murders. Whenever a person commits an act of murder, they open the locks to their soul, allowing any and all evil to flow within them. This evil then drives them to commit more acts of murder. The more souls they collect from victims, the stronger the evil becomes."

"So why not just let 'em hang? Deal with murderers how they should be dealt with. A bullet, injection, or my personal favorite, decapitation." I made a motion of swinging a sword.

"Wish it was that easy. Even in the event of the murderer's death, the evil doesn't cease. The evil inside their hearts will allow them to live on, even after death, as a Subordinate, a minion of the true evil in the world. The more victims a Subordinate claims, the more their powers grow. Sometimes, the only way to destroy a Subordinate is to cut off it's source of power, and deliver a finishing blow..."

"Hum. So tell me, Alyssa. Can normal humans see Subordinates?"

"Yes... and no." She replied. "A human can only see a Subordinate if they mean them harm. When a Subordinate targets a human for termination, the victim will usually see the Subordinate as they were in life, only blood will flow from their eyes."

"Wait!" I shouted. "Say that again!" I almost commanded.

"I said a targeted victim will only see a Subordinate as they appeared when they were human, but only blood flowing from their eyes."

"Mewiffer..." I muttered.

"Mewiffer? Jack Mewiffer?! You've seen him! Christ, this is even more drastic then I imagined. Not only have you _seen_ a Subordinate, but you've come in contact with him. How..."

"It wasn't that hard. I just gave him a good punch to the face, and he scoured off like a pussy."

"Kyle, Jack Mewiffer has been dead for years. He was found dead within the walls of that school his spirit now resides in. In life, he was Jack Mewiffer. In death... he answers only to Degrader."

"'Degrader'? Why Degrader?"

"Degrader likes to break his victims down emotionally before doing any physical damage. It's a way to soften their deaths and hasten their journey into his corrupt soul. Not a pretty way to die." I said nothing. I always knew Mewiffer was different... but the extend of such never struck me.

"IF, big if, but IF what you say is true, and I do have the ability to become a Rooder, or whatever they're called, what do I have to do?"

"All you'd have to do, Kyle, is come with me. We'll get you set up with a trainer and all you need."

"Well, in that case, count me in. On one condition." I stuck my finger up. She nodded. "I want Mewiffer. He's caused me countless trouble, and I want to be there when someone wipes that dumb grin off his face for good.

"Deal." Alyssa stood and bowed.

"Terribly sorry about this, mother. But duty calls. I suppose." I muttered.

"It's okay. Go and do some good in this world." Jennifer responded. I smiled.

"Lead on, Alyssa."


	2. Trouble Always Calls Twice

NOTE: To better facilitate the 'Boss Encounters', I'm going to switch from first person POV to Third Person Omniscent view. It'll better describe the surroundings.

Chapter Two:

Trouble Always Calls Twice

-Excerpt from "The Book of Entities 1"-

"A Subordinate who retreats from battle, either from his own desires, or the desires of a greater power, is forever weakened. Any damage inflicted to a Subordinate by a Rooder's Spiritual Weapon is permanent, and may not be reversed, no matter how many souls they consume.

Therefore, it is safe to say, a Rooder who comes in contact with a Subordinate and weakens it, while not killing it, will have an advantage in future combat, as damage sustained by the Rooder's body will heal over time, the Subordinate, cannot heal such damage."

-

"Alyssa." A voice droned from the shadows. "You've returned. With success, I trust?"

"Yes, Magistress. I have brought them as per request." Alyssa continued. The first female voice, the one Alyssa called the Magistress, spoke again.

"Excellent. Bring the girl forward."

"Uh... Magistress... I'm afraid I've not been quite straight with you. The power we detected... has come from this boy..." She pushed me forward into the light. We were in a room with a circular table in the middle and several older woman lining the table. There was an empty seat, probably for Alyssa. There came a hushed silence.

"Alyssa Hamilton. You mean to tell us, that the Rooder Blood you detected came from a _boy_?! This upsets me very greatly..."

"And why is that, Magistress?" Alyssa continued.

"It tells me you are either growing senile very fast... or are loosing your abilities faster then expected."

"I-I'm neither! I swear to you that the power I detected came from this boy!" Alyssa continued.

"We shall see. Take your seat." Alyssa did as she was told. "Tell me, boy. What is your name?"

"Kyle Ross." I responded.

"Your full name, Boy! What is you FULL name?"

"Kyle Simpson Ross." I replied more forcibly. I heard a chuckle from somewhere.

"I see. So, Kyle Ross. You believe you have what it takes to become a Rooder, hum?"

"I'm not sure what to believe. This is new to me."

"I see..." The Magistress replied. She looked down at her papers. "You're an orphan, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am." I replied. She nodded and looked down again. "Tell me what you have seen."

"Seen, ma'am...? I'm not sure I..."

"The Subordinate you claim to have seen! Tell me of him." She blurted out loudly.

"Mewiffer? Well... he's about my height, dirty blond hair, creepy red eyes... he was always bleeding from his eyes." I continued. The Magistress nodded me on.

"And what weapon did he use?"

"Anything he could find. Baseball bat... his mouth, fists, you name it. He had a hell of a tongue, though."

"I see..." She studied more papers. "What else do you know of Mewiffer."

"He goes by the name Degrader. From what I've heard, he prefers to verbally abuse and psychologically damage his victims before killing them."

"I see... your physical description of Degrader matches... It seems that... as much as it upsets me, you do have traces... _traces_ of Rooder blood in you." The Magistress sighed. "Now, before we begin your training, there is something you should know, Kyle Ross. The Rooder Line has been passed from mother to daughter for generations. All famous Rooders have come from rather humble beginnings. However, as I have stated, the blood has always been passed down from _mother_ to _daughter_. All Rooders in recorded history have been female, and it is a tradition that we believe to be infallible. However, your appearance and display of Rooder qualities upsets that tradition. Not only are you a male, but your age already places you well outside the comfort zone of female Rooders your age." The Magistress looked at Alyssa. "Has Alyssa already told you of this?"

"Yes. She told me, that Rooders have always been young women in their teens. Their powers begin development at ten, peak at fifteen, and are all but gone by twenty."

"This is correct. However you, don't fit either. You are obviously a male, twenty three, and you're powers don't show any sign of weakness or don't appear to have peaked. So I must ask, Kyle... if you are a Rooder... or a Subordinate..." There came the sounds of weapons being drawn. I stood my ground.

"I can answer that question, Magistress." I spoke calmly. "If I was, as you say, A Subordinate, with such considerable powers... do you really think you'd be alive to make such an accusation?" The Magistress thought my words over very carefully. She looked well over twenty, and probably hasn't fought a Subordinate in some time. Easy pickings for any Subordinate who just happened to walk in here.

"Your point is well made, and correct. I would not. Kyle Ross, you have been given the opportunity to show us that you, indeed, do possess the ability and skill nessecary to join our numbers. Your trainer will be Alyssa Hamilton. Remember, Alyssa's nineteen, her powers are not long for this earth, so do try to pick up some slack, yes?" I nodded. "Very well. Kyle Ross. Welcome to the Rooder Society."

Alyssa was smiling from her seat. She stood along with the others and walked to me.

"Congratulations. The council is not so easily convinced. Do try not to make them regret that decision." She motioned me off. "The first thing we need to do is get you fitted. You're quite lucky, might I add."

"How so?" I asked. Alyssa chuckled.

"Most of us have to find out the hard way about our duties. You've got a veteran to show you the ropes. First things first, you need to learn about your own abilities before you can use them. Rooders have but two weapons against Subordinates. The first is a simple vial of Holy Water."

"Yea, nothing cliché about that." I muttered. Alyssa ignored my comment.

"Holy Water, while powerful, is quite weak against most Subordinates. Newer ones, say ones that have only two or three victims, could probably be destroyed with a few hits with Holy Water. Stronger ones, however, the water will only stun them momentarily. Makes for quick get-aways."

"And the second weapon?"

"Is a weapon formed from the freed spirits of the Subordinate's victims. This, usually, takes the shape of a Bow, or other ranged weapons."

"Sweet, why don't we just use that all the time. Sounds much more efficient."

"It is, however most spirits will not channel their power into the Bow until after the Subordinate is significantly weaker."

"And you weaken a Subordinate... how, again?"

"By freeing some of the trapped souls he or she has killed. This is done by reuniting the spirit with an item it left behind in our world. Most spirits are unimportant ones, simple, nameless spirits who hold grudges against all things living. However, there are certain Anchor Spirits. These spirits are ones who are considered the Subordinates core victims. Free them from torment, and the Subordinate will get so much weaker, and the weapon will form. Yours will be unique to you, and no two Spiritual Weapons are ever alike. Maybe in make, but never in design."

"So... there may be a few Rooders who use bows... but they'll always look different?"

"Exactly. The Spiritual Weapon's design will always reflect the Rooder's personality, and the weapon itself will always reflect the Rooder's needs. I'll show you when the time comes." She opened a door revealing what appeared to be living quarters.

"My room, I assume?" I chuckled.

"Actually, no. These are the recruit's room. I'm just giving you the grand tour."

"Alyssa!" A voice called from down the hall.

"Yes?" She responded, turning around to see a young woman charging after her.

"We've detected a Subordinate! It's near!" The woman shouted. Alyssa's face went all business like.

"Right. Kyle and I will take care of him. Where is he?"

"Remember that old Jousting Arena that closed down three years ago? People have started turning up dead there. We think it may be the work of Firebrand." I heard Alyssa sigh.

"Ah, Christ, not him. Alright, I'll be there. Kyle." She addressed me now. "Stay here. I'll be back shortly."

"Yes, screw that! We're partners now, remember! I'll go with you."

"You'll only be a liability!"

"Hey. I've always said the best way to learn is to piss on the electric fence." I smirked. Defeated, Alyssa motioned me to follow her.

-Abandoned Jousting Arena-

"So this 'Firebrand' guy. What's he like?" I asked, trying to break the silence.

"'Firebrand', born Harry Short, was a competitor at this Medieval Experience Jousting Arena. He was good. The best, the say. However, his opponents always wound up dead for some reason. Some thought it was a curse, but eventually it was found out that he was lacing his lances and swords with a highly toxic poison, which kills near instantly. The poison was unheard of at the time, so they were ruled accidental. When they found out HE was really killing them, they hung him. Now, as a Subordinate, he wields a claymore which burns with the angry souls of his victims. All thirty five of them."

"Ouch. So, what's he look like?" I continued.

"Like this, boy!" A gruff voice shouted above me. I rolled out of the way as a pair of large, black plate mail boots landed where I once stood. Scrambling to my feet, I met what I could only assume, was Firebrand. I couldn't see his face, because his entire body was covered in black plate mail. In his hand he held a sword made of the blackest steel I've ever seen, the blade forever engulfed in fire. I shivered. "Hello, Alyssa! Long time, no see!"

"I thought I got rid of you last time!" Alyssa returned. Firebrand chuckled.

"'Fraid not, girl. But it appears, now, I have the upper hand. Three years have not been kind to you. Or your abilities. I, however, have only grown stronger!"

"Yea, well, I may be older, but I'm also wiser! It's how I roll!" Firebrand was ignoring me, going right for Alyssa almost exclusively. I watched Alyssa pull a small vial from her pocket.

"Oh, no you don't!" Firebrand exclaimed, knocking the vial from her hands. It slid across the dirt right into my hands.

-FIREBRAND-

Victims: 35

Sentenced to: 874 Years

JUDGEMENT!

The arena was quite. Alyssa, Firebrand, and Kyle were all standing in the sand, ready for whatever battle may commence. The openness of the arena provided both decent movement and dodging room for all three parties. Firebrand was in the center of Kyle and Alyssa. Firebrand, being weakened from a previous battle, was weak enough for Alyssa to get right to the extermination part of her job. From what appeared to be nothing, a bow hilt formed. Once grasped, the two ends extended, and a thin, near-invisible bowstring appeared between them. Alyssa grabbed the string, cueing an arrow to appear. She smiled.

"Right then. Let's dance." Not only did her bow make a great offensive weapon, in a pinch, it also made a great shield, which she seemed rather expert at. Kyle watched the two fight, helpless and unable to help Alyssa.

Alyssa fired first, her arrow charged to about half it's maximum. The arrow of pure light left the bow and headed right for Firebrand. Like it was nothing, the Subordinate swatted the arrow with his sword, the power dissipating.

"Come on! You can do MUCH better then THAT!" Firebrand taunted, continuing to advance. A small bead of sweat ran down Alyssa's face. This was going to be more difficult then she imagined. She began running circles around Firebrand with the string drawn and an arrow charging. At full power, she fired, the fast-moving arrow striking Firebrand right in the chest. "Gah!" He grunted, chains wrapping around him. "Tricky little wench! But I'm trickier!" He shouted, wrapping the chains around his sword and breaking them in a simple strike.

"What!? How..." Alyssa groaned. Firebrand smiled.

"You're getting WEAK! You're turning into nothing more then a weak, defenseless little girl! You were too much for me then, Alyssa, but as time wears on, I'll be too much for you soon enough!" He advanced on her, swinging his sword wildly. One glancing hit struck Alyssa across her face, knocking to the ground. "Three years I've been waiting for this moment..." He glared at her, standing over the fallen Rooder. "I'm going to enjoy this moment..."

"I never did quite understand why you killed those people!" Alyssa shouted, a slight drop of blood running down the side of her mouth. Firebrand stopped.

"Ah. So the little girl wants a bed-time story, does she? Well, I suppose I could oblige..." Firebrand dug his sword into the ground and crouched over Alyssa. "Years ago, I was the best in this place. I could spar with anyone and have them on their butts in seconds. However... as time wore on, I began to loose my touch. I was known for hospitalizing all my opponents. Soon, they would walk away from the battle. WALK! I couldn't allow that. Those who said that they would take me down... they said that since I could no longer fight, I was useless. I had to think about my career. So I devised a little plan. Instead of simply hospitalizing my opponents, I would send them to their grave! But I had not the strength left to do so, so I devised a little poison to do that for me. Invisible by all accounts. It worked for some time, before they finally caught me applying it preshow. That was the end of me, but the beginning, too." He smiled behind the helemt. "There. Are you satisfied now?"

"I guess..." Alyssa responded. Firebrand reached back and grabbed his sword.

"Then, I guess this is the end. Good bye, Alyssa Hamilton." He drew the blade up.

"Hold it right there, asshole." Kyle shouted. Firebrand looked to his left to see the barrel of a shotgun pressed to his helmet. "Get up slowly." He continued.

"Please. What makes you think I can be harmed by mortal weapons? Geez, they really do come stupid." He stood, allowing Alyssa to scramble to his feet. Kyle backed off. Firebrand made a motion to move.

"While you were so transfixed running off your little life story with my friend, I took the liberty to chain you in place. It doesn't take much practice to get the hang of this Rooder thing, ya know." Kyle smirked.

"What?" Firebrand asked slowly. Kyle motioned down with the gun. He had three seperate sets of chains holding him in place. Firebrand smiled. Reaching with his sword to cut the chains, the sword was expelled from his hand. "WHAT?!"

"When you get to hell..." Kyle began. "Tell them I sent you." The shotgun dematerialized from Kyle's hand, and reformed into Firebrand's sword. The flame grew brighter as Kyle struck.

The first blow was delivered in the form of a stab to the Subordinate's chest. The second in the form of pulling the sword from his chest out his side, the third as a chop to the head, and the fourth as a series of three drill strikes, each piercing Firebrand's armor. On the last strike, the chains began pulling apart, and Firebrand was eventually reduced to nothing. Kyle spun his weapon around on his finger as it dissappeared. Walking over, he took Alyssa's hand and pulled her up.

-

"Hehe. Ya know, I could get used to this whole 'Destroy Evil' thing. I like being a Rooder." I muttered as Alyssa got to her feet. She dusted herself off and took her vial of Holy Water from me with a smile.

"Thanks for the save." She responded. I waved it away.

"So, I take it that was Firebrand, huh? Didn't seem like too much of a problem."

"Yea, well, I fought him some time ago, and weakened him."

"He got away, basically." I muttered. Alyssa nodded, defeated.

"Yea. That he did." I smiled as Alyssa's phone went off. "Hamilton." She answered. There came a pause. "Right. Kyle and I are on our way there now. Yea..." Pause. "Firebrand is nothing more then embers, thanks to Kyle. Yea, I'll give the details when I get back." She closed her phone. "Change of plans, Kyle. We're hoppin' the next plane to back to Norway." She spoke, taking her car keys from her pocket.

"Dropping me back at the Orphanage? I that much extra luggage?"

"O Contrar. We're going to Romsdaaren. How's your Mansion Crawling legs?" She smiled, clicking the keyless entry device twice.


End file.
